Every Draugr Has His Day
by ImpertinentGoose
Summary: An exploration of undeath as experienced by a nameless draugr.


Every Draugr Has His Day

_Dull awareness. Nothing more than the sound of water dripping onto the stone floor as it had for centuries. Time itself was a blur. Drifting in and out of consciousness for the rest of eternity: the price for betrayal…_

…

Gasping for breath, a Dunmer woman in full leathers leaned against the wall. For more than two hours, she'd been working her way through the old ruin near Riverwood. Eris: that was the name she had chosen when she came to Skyrim. Right about then, Eris was wishing that the imperial fop at the general store had been a little clearer about how much "some gold" actually was. No stupid trinket was worth the trouble of dealing with these undead nightmares. Not to even mention that idiot Arvel. She'd had to fight a giant fucking spider to even get to him. Luckily the damn thing couldn't fit through the doorway, leaving her free to plink away with her bow. Reflecting on their encounter, she wondered if she hadn't taken too much pleasure from planting a dagger in his back… No matter, it's not like he ever felt it as the fool had already run himself into trap by the time she'd caught up with him. Still, it'd made her feel better.

The racket raised by Arvel's death had woken several draugr from their slumber, leading to an impromptu game of hide and seek. As prone to violence as Eris was, she preferred her targets unaware and not armed with large bits of rusted metal. She'd used her last Cure Disease potion on a bite she'd sustained catching a rabbit on a drunken bet with Sven (long story). And seeing as how praying at an altar was out of the question (Eris didn't play well with priests), avoiding tetanus was of the utmost importance. Having run back through several chambers and stuffed herself in an alcove, she promised herself that from then on her approach would be strictly sneak n' spell. Feeling safe, Eris took the time to string her bow and prepare a calming spell for any close calls. As she made her way back through the room of awakened draugr, she periodically fired a cheap arrow into the far corner to keep them distracted. Child's play, really. Of course, it was when she was feeling comfortable, that she messed up. While most sleeping draugr had their arms crossed, there was one in the room that hadn't gotten that particular memo, instead choosing to leave half of his limbs sprawled out where someone, ahem, could trip on them. But apparently, he was on the ball when it came to groaning bloody murder when disturbed. Panicking, Eris booked it through the chamber's exit and sprinted through the hallways, setting off traps as she went, nearly getting cut in half in the process. Finding a relatively quiet corner, she leaned up against the wall and tried to catch her breath. Surely her day couldn't get any better.

…

_Sounds. Vibrations. These things held importance. Many had been drifting down through the halls and stone of late. A loud thud and an angry voice brought his surroundings into focus. An alcove of stone. His body rotted away and unresponsive. An intruder within the chamber, evidently in a foul mood. Any attempts at movement failed and the curse resounded through his mind:_

_Bound By Oath You Were._

_Bound By Betrayal You Are._

_Bound To Bone,_

_Bane You Shall Be._

_Draugr._

_The faintest memories surfaced: gouts of flame, a towering peak, the clash of steel and scale, and blood. His reverie was cut short, however, when a small gray hand reached into his ribcage._

…

Eris was feeling pretty good. She'd avoided several encounters with the shambling horrors and her mind once again turned to profit. There was no way that Lucan was going to pay well enough to make this little expedition worth it. She knew that the Nords buried their dead with an offering which, usually, amounted to gold. Her distaste for grave-robbing was soon overwhelmed by the prospect of purchasing new gear. Grave-robbing it was, then. Making her way to the next chamber, Eris prepared her dagger and calm spell. With her attention firmly focused on her hands and gold, she neglected to watch her head, which she promptly bashed off an extended torch-holder. She immediately let loose an array of expletives that Mikael would be proud of and grabbed her head. In doing so, she both hit her head with pommel of her dagger and smashed the calm spell directly into her face, which had the dual effect of pissing her off further and keeping her quiet about it. Recalling her purpose there, Eris got back to business. After only a dozen bodies, which she had carefully checked for armor or weapons (signs they were going to get up and whack her over the head), she'd amassed a small fortune. There had been one corpse she'd avoided until then as it still had a few tatters of chainmail and what might've been a short sword at one point. However, with her greed growing and the justification that it hadn't woken when she'd been swearing earlier, that body was looking a bit like loot. Her mind made up, she dropped into a crouch and made her way over. Upon closer examination, there was no way this thing was a draugr. All it had was a pitted helm, a scrap of chain mail, and that rusted hunk of metal she'd spotted earlier. With a sigh of relief, she reached her hand under the ribcage and started to feel around for any coins. Hearing a rattling breath, she looked up to find the eyes open and frigid blue.

…

_The thought 'sight is mine once again!' briefly crossed my mind, followed by the more fascinating one of 'why is that elf gray? ' Such things were quickly pushed to the side as my body began to get up from its stone bed. The gray elf, a woman by the looks of her, was more than a little startled to see me up and about, which is understandable, I guess. Looking back, it was the moment when I drew what was left of my sword that I lost consciousness. I can only guess that the curse stepped in when it was time to deal with an intruder. "Lost consciousness" perhaps isn't the right phrase, as it was like being half-asleep and deprived of all senses. More of a floating, undefined consciousness, really. I was not in that state long though when it was obliterated by a flash of green light. Returning to consciousness, I thought my vision was failing as it flickered this way and that, only to come to find that my entire head was being rocked by the barrage of green spells flung by the gray elf woman. It seems that she caught me in mid-charge as, having ceased to run, I fell on my face and slid to a stop just short of her feet. She must've calmed down or thought me dead as she began to check herself for something (Cuts, possibly). After trying to get up, I discovered that I, still, l was not in control of my body and had to wait for the curse to decide that being upright was advantageous when attempting to kill someone. As my body brought itself to a standing position, I got a good look at her and saw that she was small, dirty, and none too good-looking, though I feel that it is my duty to point out that as a human I may be somewhat biased. Aesthetics aside, the curse, which was still in full swing as far as body control went, seemed to be reluctant, no, unable, to continue its attack on the elf. The gray elf woman had noticed my, er, its strange behavior and after a brief look of confusion and a glance at her glowing hand she shrugged and headed towards the door of the chamber. After a split second, my body went clanking right along after her like a lost puppy. A very large, dessicated , undead puppy. Although I knew it would do no good, I at least attempted to look penitent as she glared at me. In all probability, she didn't even realize there was a soul still trapped inside what was an obviously dead and walking body. However, she wasn't taking the time to finish me off either, so I had that going for me. With a huff and a muttered word, she continued on her way, and I, unwillingly but not unhappily, followed after her.  
_


End file.
